VOIE LACTÉE

The Dream of Serenity

VOIE LACTÉE

The night sky has darkened,
but there is still lights gleaming,
sparkles and specks of halos
luminating the sky.

My darkened heart is risen,
from the smile of my children.
Their love is what keeps my feet walking
under the vast, big sky.

I weep in silence,
for no soul can watch me cry.
Elegance is what they will see.
A woman’s heart
is as deep as the night sky.

Voie Lactée

For those who find their peace among the stars

  • Voie Lactée is the quietest of the
    three dreams.

    It’s what you feel when you look up
    at the sky on a clear night and
    everything inside goes still.
    Like someone poured warm moonmilk
    straight into your heart. No rush, no noise.

    Just this gentle reminder that the
    whole universe has been living
    inside you all along.
    It doesn’t grab you.
    It just holds you, the way night
    holds the stars.

    The fire cools into soft embers.
    The bubbles pop and turn into
    stardust.

  • And what’s left is serenity,
    finally shared with the sky.

    It’s sweet, weightless, endless.

    Like the universe decided to hug
    you back.

    Wear it when you want to feel small
    and huge at the same time.

    When you’re ready to come home
    to serenity.

VOIE LACTÉE

A little pink pepper sparks, then
champaka and a cold drop of pineapple
juice land softly.

It’s that first cool inhale when you step
outside at night and the stars suddenly
feel close enough to taste.

Crisp, quiet, a tiny smile you didn’t plan.

Ylang and tiaré bloom slow and tropical,
litchi slips in like the sweetest secret.
This is the part where someone pours
moon-milk straight into the air.

Everything loosens.
You’re floating in the softest, sweetest
darkness.

Vetiver roots it gently, vegetal amber
glows low, cedarwood holds the whole sky
up without making a sound.
Hours later it’s still there, like the night
decided to stay on your skin.

Weightless, endless, home.

Embrace this dream